The Girl With the Bread
by GoatsnGhosts
Summary: Alessandara was as close to perfect she could get herself too. Living and being the most richest in Wall Sina, she was expected to be the definition of perfection. But in every perfect hero (or damsel in stress) there's always one fatal flaw. It could be friendship. It could be love. But no, Alessandra Belle Ricco's fatal flaw was curiosity LevixOC More summary inside!
1. Prolouge

Alessandra's life was, if you had to describe it in one word, boring.

She had to have everything just right, just the way others expected her to.

Perfection.

Beauty.

Talent.

Law.

It was all bundled up, in one strict rule:

"You have to be perfect"

Many say perfection has no limit, every violinists can improve, every author can make a story more beautiful, but Alessandra was the closest to perfection she could get herself to.

But in every perfect hero (or damsel in stress) there's always one fatal flaw.

It could be friendship, but the closest thing to a friend she has is a old cat.

It could be love, but she has no lover.

No, Alessandra Belle Ricco's fatal flaw was curiosity.

Thirst for adventure.

The power to

wonder things a perfect figure like her shouldn't do.

But in every adventure, from climbing a mountain to going to the underground, there's always something everyone forgets.

Risks.

A simple word, one syllable, but with a meaning that leads to something more dangerous.

More dangerous than feeding drug addicts bread.

More horrible than selling a 4 generation heir loom.

More risky than going outside alone at night.

No, the word is something more powerful than all of that.

Something that is a prize and a punishment for every adventure.

Love.

Or that's what every fictional book had told her.

 ** _important authors note:_**

Hi there!

This will be a quick note on more important matters and such, I will limit my notes unless there is something important to tell you, so do not fret!

-When there is a star after a word the definition/explanation will be at the bottom of the page!

-almost every name I put in this story has a deeper meaning so feel free to research

-spoilers for the anime

-limited spoilers for manga (there will be a warning on top of the chapter)

-I'm Canadian so words like "color" will have a U in it.

 **Scenes of suicide, cutting, etc, may be in this story.**

 **I will of course warn you at the beginning of the chapter, but read at your own risk.**

That's all! Hope you enjoy, and feel free to leave comments and criticism!I sure need it :D

 _I claim no right to Attack on Titan the only things I own are my OC characters and some plot._

 _All rights reserved to Hajime Isayama (諫山 創_ _)_

I also have a Wattpad version of this, so if you like that site better you can go read it there :D


	2. Chapter 1, Play

_I claim no right to Attack on Titan the only things I own are my OC characters and some plot._

 _All rights reserved to Hajime Isayama (諫山 創_ )

Year 815

The house, placed in the richest district of Wall Sina was-which was expected, big. Really, really big.

The grand walls were made out of the finest wood from the outer walls, stones and bricks (probably having made back stories of hard labour for families) adorned the steps and walls of the grand house, which was not far from being a castle. The flowers around the garden and front steps were more expensive than a wall Maria family could earn in 6 months, with colours so vibrant and patterned many wouldn't even know what to call it.

Grand windows were outlined in silver and gold, and the garden-which was covered in flowers, was fashioned into a Japanese Zen Garden.

Sitting in the vast garden, on a swing, was a little girl who was too young to understand the power of money just yet. Her hair, put into two braids on either sides of her head, was messed up from a day's worth of play, no doubt. Flowers-too perfectly shaped and coloured to seem natural, also covered her head, styled into her hair in a circular form to look like a crown. Twigs and leaves also adorned her hair, making her look in a less queenly manner.

Beside her sat a woman, with the cloths and jewels of Wall Sina adorning her skin, she had the little girls braids in her hands, her clean and delicate fingers untangling the mess.

"Mommy," the black haired girl said, "wouldn't it be nice to go on an adventure!" at this she brought her arms up in an exiting gesture and smiled, her hazel eyes glittering, at the mother. The woman's face cracked into a beautiful smile, her unnaturally white teeth showing. "But we just came back from an adventure!" the woman replied, quickly picking up a random flower from a near by bush.

"See? We picked the rarest flowers of all the land!" She replied as she waved the bright violet rose around, no doubt never seen before on the outer-walls but adorning the street of Wall Sina.

At this the child scowled, her small lips forming a pout "not an imaginary one!" Her hazel eyes glittered at the thought "A real one, outside of our house!" the little girl cheerfully exclaimed. At this the Mothers beautiful face turned into a delicate scowl, her red hair falling into her eyes, but before the mother could say anything, the child stood up and waddled to the house, clearly knowing the answer was no.

Inside the house was even grander than it was on the outside. Arts from various famous artists- some priceless to the point of being places close to guards, adorned the walls. The walls themselves were coloured shades of royalty* and softer shades of white and blue with the occasional wall paper also on the walls.

The windows, being beautiful on the outside, were clearly noticeable by the clear glass they were made out of that almost made sunlight brighter. Carpets resembling Persian rugs* were places on the marble floor, vibrant colours with a labyrinth of pattern stitched into the rug.

Maids' with their hands full of laundry, plates, and tools scurried around the rather empty hallways, dressed in a white and black uniform. While the guards, clearly bored, had small talk with maids and their fellow guards too quiet to be heard.

But the child was rather used to the small chit chatter of guards and maids, and slowly walked her way to her room-having already memorised the vast house. Her slight walk, closer to a waddle, got abruptly stopped by someone calling her name.

"Alessandra! What are you doing!" the voice of this was a woman, clearly in her late 20's, quickly made her way, running, up to the little girl. At this the little girl-Alessandra, face morphed into a bright smile. Walking up to the middle aged lady dressed in uniform, she tugged on her calloused and rough fingers, and pulled her to the bedroom. The ladies eyes shined, in happiness and something unknown, as she patted Alessandra's raven coloured head.

"You see, Death," the little girl explained, pronouncing 'Death' so it would rhyme with 'teeth', "mommy didn't want to go on an adventure, so I decided to pack my stuff and go!" she answered in a cheerful and excited tone.

The maid, Death, smiled at the little girl and went down on her knees to be on eye level with her. "Well, isn't that silly of you! What would you even do outside?" the maid responded "there would be no cake!" Death continued, ready to entertain the little girl. But the girl, who was rather cute, was much more stubborn. "But wouldn't an adventure be even better?" Alessandra claimed, making a big motion with her hands. The maid was ready to reply, before being stopped by the women in the garden.

The woman, tall and slender with the poise of a queen, looked at Death- giving her a look of dismissal, before going up to Alessandra. Death quickly scrambled up to her feet, bowing, and leaving in a fast pace. But

before Death could get the chance to get to the door, the woman stopped her, addressing her "Death, come pick up Alessandra for her violin lessons," she looked at the clock "at 4;00" she continued, but her voice, kind to Alessandra, was commanding to Death.

Death responded with a firm nod, not bothering to fix the mispronunciation of her name, which was a common occurrence for her, having being called "Death" instead of "Deeth" many times. "Yes Miss. Bedelia" she replied, going out the grand door of Alessandra's bedroom, hearing the last few words of Bedelia's sentence.

"And please fix your hair, it's quite ratchet"

* _Royal Colours: in the Middle Ages colours like purple and vibrant blues were considered royal colours only loyalty should wear (mostly purple)_

 _*resembling because there was no Persia or Iran back then_

 _Death is pronounced Deeth, rhyming with teeth. I do not own the name, and thank the author of BitterBlue (Kristin Cashore) for the idea._

 **Hope you enjoyed it my little chicken nuggets! See you next chapter!**

 **Don't forget to review :D it really helps me out!**


	3. Chapter 2, Obey

_I claim no right to Attack on Titan the only things I own are my OC characters and some plot._

 _All rights reserved to Hajime Isayama (諫山_ 創)

Alessandra spent the little free time she had in the gardens.

Many would think that a little girl, like Alessandra, being only 6 would have all the time in the world. But Alessandra having possessed many talents, cost her the free time many had.

6 hours of the day, she spent listening to lectures from old tutors with fashioned moustaches "The walls that." and "the walls this." and every time, Alessandra could swear they were the same stories told different ways.

There were other subjects too, from literature to rather boring math.

The amount of work she did of course paid off, Alessandra was smart, _very_ smart for her age. A "child genius" as people seemed to tell her. But the cost of her genius was her childhood.

Alessandra tried to be put fun in her lessons, but no matter how hard she tried to make _anyone_ laugh, she would be sent to her room.

Her curiosity and adventurous attitude was scolded, put aside as disobedience.

"No Alessandra the walls will never be climbed up for fun"

"No Alessandra, those flowers can't be used to make a replica of a snowman"

"Alessandra, that science project is getting out of hand!"

Alessandra's curiosity not only subsided by the negative energy put on her because of it, but it bugged her parents so much that Lady Bedelia decided to not only ban her from the garden, but also added on to her already strict rules.

That included her getting taught lady manners earlier than usual.

Proper "lady manners" were usually hour long lessons, like the name implies, on how to be a proper lady.

The lessons were many things, from posture training to how to sit at a dinner table. Most times, these things were taught at the age of 12.

But Alessandra, being from the Ricco family was anything but normal.

She learned everything at a very young age. Too young of an age. Many would think it was an age that is only meant for fun. But even with her young age, her intelligence was obviously better than most families of Wall Maria.

The end of the day concluded with 2 hour of music lessons.

Now if her math tutor was any good at teaching math as styling a moustache, that left her with 15 hours of free time.

12 in which she slept.

{•}{•}{•}

It was a normal day in Ricco Manor.

The maids scurried around in their uniforms, guards secretly talked to each other, slacking on the job as many would call it.

On the top floor of the 3 floored mansion, was where biggest room laid. This room, was not a bedroom or an attic like most houses but a study.

Inside the room, the walls were not decorated with paintings or extravagant wall paper like the rest of the mansion, but a plain brown. Of course the main reason for this was because the walls were barely _seen_.

Hammered to the walls were bookshelf upon bookshelf's filled with 100 years of knowledge. One would call it a library if not for the many stacks of paperwork laid on random chairs scurried around the room.

At the end of the room, laid a wooden desk with, like every other furniture, stacks of paper.

Sitting on the desk was a man with a wrinkled suite and tie. He would be called handsome, with blue eyes and dark hair, defined jaw line, and from what could be seen under the shirt muscular body.

But time had worked on him and around his eyes were wrinkles, his forehead having stress creases forming. His lips were pursed in a worried manner and his hands were holding his head like he was having a bad headache.

The mans thoughts were, rather rudely, interrupted by a knock on the door.

He thought barely nothing of it saying a quick "go away" and getting back to his papers. But outside the door was not a plainly dressed maid but the mans daughter.

Alessandra paid no attention to his obvious irritated "go away" and walked inside her fathers study. The doors creaking as the she opened them.

Alessandra always loved the smell of books, of course she never read anything from the study (she was told many times she wasn't aloud to until she was older) but the study became her favourite spot after being banned from the garden by her mother.

The little books she read were mostly about history of the walls and science, and sometimes she wondered if books she read could not only hold knowledge but stories as well.

The man, Alessandra's father, looked up to see a bored expression on Alessandra. He squinted his eyes at her and looked at the small clock beside the door, getting more irritated by the little time he had on the project.

"It's 4:00 a clock Alessandra"

The raven haired girl gave him the most confused look she could muster up, which was considerably bad for that she had horrible acting skills, and replied with a "what do you mean?"

He gave Alessandra an angry glare, "why aren't you in your violin lessons?" his sentence was short, full of authority like he was not talking to his daughter but a disobedient dog.

"Well, it's boring!" She stated, bobbing her head and stretching the "o" in boring out. She smiled brightly at her father, hoping for him to react well to her playfulness.

Alessandra's father had good days and bad days. Unfortunately the good days always ended in bad days. The bad days always ended in worst bad days.

Today was a horrible day.

"You _will_ go back to your violin lesson, Alessandra, no one will want a wife with no talent-" he stopped, considering his wording and looking at not the bored anymore but scared eyes of Alessandra, who didn't know he would react to badly to a violin lesson. She should've known.

He started shouting.

"I WILL NOT HAVE YOU'RE STUPID _ATTITUDE_ RUIN OUR FAMILIES REPUTATION!" He grabbed a random stack of paper, looking once again in Alessandra's eyes.

Alessandra was used to her fathers outrages, but it didn't make it any less scary. She was a quick learner, catching up to information fast. But there are something you try, hoping it will work out no matter if the probability is 1 to a million. That for Alessandra was that she would probably never stop trying to get her father to show her affection.

His outrages were usually about small things occurring during stressful situations occurring in his plans, mostly about his job position. He, being stubborn like Alessandra refuses to take any medication for his rages and stress.

But she did learn many things about her father not many children know. Quick learner or not.

For one, was that he had a very. quick hand.

Alessandra's father dropped the stacks of paper in a quick action, making them fly everywhere. Reminding Alessandra of falling snow, very angry snow.

He walked up to her, in a calm looking manner and stared at her, eyes glazed in anger.

"Why did you skip the lessons Alessandra?"

She looked at her father. There were tear droplets forming around her eyes, because she knew that she didn't have the right answer, that there was never a right answer.

It was quick.

His hands were quick.

Not quiet, but it was blocked out by the sound of Alessandra's crying.

{•}{•}{•}


	4. Chapter 3 Guests

I claim no right to Attack on Titan the only things I own are my OC characters and some plot.

All rights reserved to in Isayama (諫山 創

Gasp, dedicating a chapter once again. This time I'd like to thank my good friend for doing nothing and just being herself SalemShade thx -Tamaki

{•}{•}

A woman with a maid outfit, obviously on her break, was sitting in a small room furnished with a bed, closet, mirror, and a small storage space. It was a bland room, with mostly beige colours and worn down sheets. But being a maid, you got your food and clothes provided by the manor. Money wasn't highly necessary, or that's what the rich thought.

The maid was highly pretty- maybe not beautiful but with full lips and round eyes she stood out. Her hair was an unnatural black, not like most people having very dark brown hair, and cut choppily like she did it herself regularly, right below her chin. Her eyes were also an unnatural black to match her hair. Her nose was more on the pointy side and not the smallest nose aroun but a little big. Many would say she looked like a raven with her black aesthetics.

The woman was in a slouched, almost vulnerable position. Her round eyes were puffy and red almost as if she was crying not long ago. Her hands were bloodied around the tip of her fingers, like she put too much pressure on them from work, her nails looking aggressively popped out.

She was holding a piece of paper, crumbled up and faded at the edges. On the sheet of paper was not writing, but a picture of a small boy. He looked around 2, with small eyes and dark hair like herself. The maid was agitatedly chewing on her lips, which were bitten down and bloody from her biting it, almost as if the picture saddened her to an extend of harmful remedy.

Suddenly, quicker than one would think a maid could move, she twist herself and slid the picture under the thin pillow. This action was followed by the small rooms door opening by a manicured hand, the door making a old creaking sound as it opened.

"Death." The owner of the hand said, it was a short sentence, enough to tell the women that it was Lady Bedalia. Also telling her that her short break was over.

Not all maids had the Lady come to them to tell them that there brake was over, but she was a especial case. Closer to Alessandra than any other maid, "personal maid" as you would call it. Some might even think Death has a closer relationship to Alessandra than her own mother, of course no one dared to say it out loud.

Death was quick to stand up from her bed, smoothing out non existent wrinkles in her dress and running her hand through her hair choppy hair. She bowed quickly before walking out the door. Heading to Alessandra's room, no doubt.

Lady Bedalia watched her as she went, closely with a sharp eye like an eagle would watch a small prey. Or in this case, a Lady watching for a slightest mistake from her servant.

{•}{•}

Having guests in Ricco Manor was a common occasion.

Alessandra didn't mind the guests the came and went- for that they usually meant less tutors for the day, but she did find the preparations a bore.

Of course she herself didn't do much _work_ as in cleaning or cooking, but she did have to have hours of "tidying up" her hair and fitting and trying on clothes, desperately trying to find one to fill her mothers expectation.

Today, they did have guests over, for that she was pulled out from her lesson (the lesson was something about the walls again, she wasn't sure for that she wasn't paying that much attention) by, her favourite person, Death.

She always found Death amazing, more amazing than any other person she met. Her mother was always strict on her and her dad being so even more, and Death seemed to always be there at the right time. From a short self esteem boost or mending her boo bo- her bruises she was there.

Death was the little fun she had in her day, something she always enjoyed. She was pretty too, Death. Not pretty like her mother with the elegance, but in her own special (amazing) way. But whatever the occasion, she knew Death was the one to make her smile.

Alessandra quickly jumped up from her seat, saying a quick goodbye to her tutor and running up to her maid, a bright smile replacing her bored expression. "I didn't realize we had guests today! I bet it's Count Pierre," Count Pierre was a middle aged man, a noble not as high as the Ricco family but high enough in the invisible social ladder to be a guest in the Ricco Manor.

"Actually, thinking about it he's only visited once or twice before... But daddy is always talking about him! Don't you agree?" Alessandra aimed the question to Death who was currently walking beside her to her room.

"Lord Ricco _does_ talk about him often, makes since Alice, especially since Count Pierre is the guest today." Death replied, smiling as Alessandra eyes gleamed in pride for guessing today's guest right.

"We better get ready quickly too, he's going to be here in a hour or so." Death said, opening Alessandra's bedroom door.

{•}{•}

Getting ready, as mentioned before, was a bore to Alessandra (even if her favourite person in the whole wide world was doing it for her). She made small chit chat with Death, mainly about the topics she was learning currently, while she did her hair. She didn't wear makeup, even she was far too young for that, but she did always have an up-do in her hair like a queen would do (Lady Bedalia's order).

That made Death job harder by a ton, not her inability to do an up-do, she could do that just fine. Her fingers were the problem. She cursed herself under her breathe quite a ton as she made Alessandra's hair with her agitated hands. It was painful for her sore fingers, so painful that in the middle of the up-do Alessandra herself stopped her from doing her hair, and continued doing it herself.

This left Death in a grateful mood, she knew little Alice wasn't like her mother but sometimes she forgot. She let Alessandra do her own hair while she went to the big closet to pick out her dress.

At the end, they had 15 minutes to spare, and Alessandra was in a long green dress with her dark brown, raven some may call it, hair a perfect up-do dine by herself.

{•}{•}

She looked at the empty ball room, a blank expression on her face. She did like the ballroom with its golden and shiny aesthetics, but she liked the gardens even more with its colourful flowers and leafs. Her mother always seemed to tell her dancing in the ballroom was one of the most magical parts of being a Nobel, with long dressed ladies and handsome gentleman, she said it was were love sparked.

She didn't believe her of course, for that she knew most of the time marriages were arranged and people didn't meet up in ballrooms and got married. Maybe that was why she didn't like the ballroom so much, because she knew eventually she would get married off to some creep with a lot of money.

my extremely un-positive thoughts were cut short by my mother calling my name. I quickly grabbed up my long dress, hand picked by Death, and walked to the ballroom door exit, making sure not to trip, where mother was standing.

Mother quickly grabbed my hand, leading me to, what I would think, where our guests were currently sitting.

I was right, of course, and indeed Court Pierre was there as Death had informed me, but it wasn't just him. Beside him on the couch sat a lady with auburn hair and a plain face, who was talking to a boy about my age in a tux. The boy caught my attention, it was a rare occurrence for a kid my age to be in these gatherings and we usually became good friends. He had disheveled hair (something my mother was probably critiquing) with a golden colour to it with pale green eyes to match. I must have been staring because he caught my eyes and gave me something that would be best called a sideways grin.

Mother gave a bright smile to my dad and our guests pulling me by my hand hand to our seat. Count Pierre was the first to speak up.

"Nice to meet again Lady Bedelia, Sir Ricco, and you too Lady Alessandra" he gave a fake smile at me "I even brought my son so you don't have to sit through the boring lecture!" I had the urge shiver at his attempts to make me like him, but I smiled brightly at him- making sure it doesn't look fake, Death always told me fake smiles made you look mean.

Even if I didn't have to sit through the lecture, I did had to sit through the introductions. I learned the plain auburn haired woman was Count Pierre's wife named Bell. The boy my age sitting at the end of the couch was there son named William, a common name which made me wonder if he went by the nickname Will.

At the end of introducing, me and William did get sent to a different room to "play" as Lady Bell put it.

{•}{•}

The room they were sent to, like almost the rest of the manor, was wallpapered, with no dust visible on the many furniture.

The golden haired boy, William smiled brightly at the room. "Isn't this great! We don't have to sit through all that nonsense talk. No toys, that's a shame but I think you would much rather play with dolls, huh?"

Alessandra stared at him, she never had a doll and the only toys she ever owned were a few stuffed animals. He seemed hyper, and goofy to put it nicely. His pale green eyes were looking around the room, looking at every inch.

"Sorry to tell you, William, but I don't have any dolls." She stopped, watching the perplexed look on Williams face.

"Sorry if you were planning on playing with them" she had to hide her giggles from this statement, and it was much harder to not laugh as shock formed on Williams face. He looked ridiculous, she decided.

The shock on William's face was slowly changed into a smile, "you know Sandy, I like you!" His smile widened, "how do you feel about sneaking around the maids and going to the gardens?" He knew the answer would be no, she was a girl after all, no girl has ever said yes to something like that. Dolls or no dolls.

Of course, Alessandra was no ordinary girl. She crossed her arms together tilting her head, a sly smile forming around her lips.

"Well, Will," she decided to give him a nickname too, since he called her Sandy, "I think that would be lovely,"


	5. Chapter 4 Underground

**My main goal in this fanfic is not to rewrite the series, but write the things a TV show cannot do. The perspective you could say, things the TV show never talked about. I will, of course, have the TV show plot in this story, OC and all.** {•}{•} If someone were to guess a colour most common in the underground, they would probably think gray. Of course, anyone who has never been there would think the same. They would think someplace in the underground, there would be gray walls made up of solid rock. They would also think it would be cold, freezing, the air having a mild freshness to it. More of a "cave" than being banished to a place with no sun. Of course, in the underground of the walls, it wasn't the latter or the prior. In the underground, it smelled like the cheap alcohol and cocaine that intoxicated men and women, ruining families, making children die. Puddles of unknown substances were pooled on the ground (of course it wouldn't make it better if you _know_ what the puddles are) and the walls were covered in mould. The expensive fruit no one could afford, being the best underground food and garbage to the overworld, were in scratched up carriages while the shopkeeper tried to make money. Even the fruit in his own carriage was too expensive for him to afford. People littered every nook and cranny of the streets, begging not for money, but for anything to survive off of. People of the underground were never rich. Most have probably never had _clean water_ before. People of the underground didn't care for how they looked, or how they dressed, or even education. For that in the underground, there were no teachers, only parents passing on little knowledge they knew to their children. Teenage girls littered the bars, willing to sell their bodies. Men felt their backs break from supporting their family. Men and Women both put a knife to their wrist, pleading for their life to end. Bars were common in the underground, of course, it wasn't that people went to them for fun- bars were used to forget where they were, how they couldn't escape the closest anyone can go to hell when they were alive, or at least that's what they thought. Many dreamed of going up in the overworld, where they are protected but also had more freedom, to see the sun in all its glory. To put it lightly, it was more than horrible. {•}{•}{•} It was common to abandon your children in the underground. It was a known fact, maybe the baby was from a beautiful girl, a slut too, that wasn't careful in her tactics. Maybe it was that the baby was sick, and medicine was an unknown legend to the family, too expensive- so they thought it would be best to leave him on the ground, banished from feeling any love. After all, you needed to be selfish to survive in a place with no warmth. Among the many drunken bastards and crying children, a person in a cloak was holding something close to her. It was a bundle, a baby no doubt no older than 6 months, but what was surprising was not the baby, but her clothes. Her face was covered, but the well-kept clothes were seen, it was rare for anyone to own anything but dirty beige, gray, or a dull white. It was rarer to have something that looked bright and new. The woman was wearing a black and white dress, it was plain but it looked new like it was washed regularly to perfection. The woman figure slowly made her way around the drunken sleepers in the small path, before stopping in front of a small house. The house, like all the others, was dirty on the outside. It looked like it may fall apart if one were to push it too hard. The well-dressed woman paid no attention to it however and put the baby down on the steps. The baby had gray eyes, which were soon to be dead. For that, his mother, like many others, had abandoned it. {•}{•}{•} When the twelve years old Alessandra got told that Count Pierre was visiting she was beyond excited. Not only did Will get to visit, her math class got cut short and she got some quality time with Death. A win-win situation. She had the most fun with Will, sure she got in trouble triple times more when he was around (like that one time they broke Lady Belinda's vase, they were playing catch with it) but to her, he was like the dose of fun to keep her childhood sane. Something that was a downfall, however, was the dismissal of herHistory class. Out of all of the boring classes she did every day, history was her favourite. She enjoyed the stories of the Survey Corps bravery (oh how sometimes she wished she could be that brave), She also knew things her teacher told her not to tell anyone for that they were secrets. Like an underground city. This one sounded peculiar, why would people be living in the underground? Wasn't the overworld safe enough for them? But even if she had more information than many others, she still wondered. What were beyond the walls, she was told the earth was round, so would she fall if she were to stand at the bottom of the earth? What if there were people living on the moon! She kept these questions to herself. For that lady was never meant to be curious, and she was a lady. Wasn't she? {•}{•}{•} 


End file.
